Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. ‘Jacques?’ she called.
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